


Twenty-Seven Minutes.

by imzadinot



Series: How Time Passes... [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drabble, I have no idea what I'm doing, Implied Cheating, Infidelity, It's really short, M/M, harry cheats, larry - Freeform, the word 'shit' is used a bit, there's like another person but they're barely featured, they're not famous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7769302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imzadinot/pseuds/imzadinot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't take long for Louis' life to fall apart. Twenty-seven minutes, to be precise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty-Seven Minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> So...this is literally somethng I wrote when I was avoiding writing for one of my other fics on a different site. I mean no offence by the content, I have no right to Louis Tomlinson or Harry Styles and I'm just kind of borrowing them to play house, I guess. It is really short, I know. There are probably other fics out there with the same title but if there is, there's no link between this and them. I am shit at replying to comments, but I do read them and I'd love to see what you guys think...

**5:33pm**

Louis wanders idly around the supermarket, occasionally picking up something only to put it back. It’s Friday night which means it’s date night. Date night means Louis or Harry take turns cooking for the other and that means Louis has to go shopping.

He spends what feels like forever queuing with the measly four items he ends up getting, and no, he hasn’t copped out and bought pizza again. It’s the one meal he can really actually cook and, yes, it only involves four ingredients. Steak, chips, salad because, by twenty-nine, salad is a thing you should really be buying and eating, and a bottle of a wine. A nice one. Well, as nice as you can get in the Tesco Express that’s five minutes from his and Harry’s place. But wine was most definitely bought and counted as part of the dinner because he’s had a shit week at work and Harry’s had a shitty _year_ at work and wine is almost always necessary.

But he pays for his shopping and begins the five minute walk home, swinging the shopping bag as he walks until he remembers the wine bottle and promptly stops.

**5:44pm**

By the time he gets back to their flat, it isn’t honestly that far and he didn’t spend that long at the shops, he’s itching to get rid of his work clothes, dropping his tie on the floor the minute he gets in and kicking his shoes off, not noticing the extra pair of shoes alongside Harry’s, placed neatly on the shoe rack, grabbing a couple of wine glasses as he makes his way into he kitchen, dropping the shopping bag on the floor and wincing as the wine bottle clinks but mercifully doesn’t break.

He calls out for Harry, figuring that he should be home by now, but not really caring that he doesn’t get an answer. He can hear the shower running and Harry’s work bag has been unceremoniously dumped on the sofa, so he figures that it’s not too big a deal, taking the time to put the shopping away and pour himself a glass of wine before he drops onto the sofa.

**5:49pm**

He’s about to reach for the TV remote and put on the latest episode of Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D that he and Harry missed when he notices the tie draped over the end of the sofa. It’s not Harry’s, as Harry never wears ties, hates them with a passion, and it’s not his, as he only owns two ties that he’ll actually wear and one of them is currently by the front door and the other is a cheesy Christmassy tie that Harry bought him as a laugh but he wears anyway. It’s not his tie, and the realisation makes Louis sit up.

**5:53pm**

It’s not his tie and it’s not Harry’s tie and his brain is already going into overdrive, trying to figure out some kind of reason for why it’s there and whose it could be, an answer that doesn’t make him sound mad or paranoid and doesn’t paint Harry out to be some kind of cheater. There’s an answer for the tie because it’s just a tie, it doesn’t mean anything.

Louis keeps hold of his wine glass, glancing around his and Harry’s flat, looking for signs that anything else is amiss, wandering back to the front door to where he dropped his own tie and snatching it up, trying to remember how to breathe when he finally does notice the other pair of shoes lined up neatly alongside Harry’s and—shit.

A tie is one thing, something that could easily be explained, but the other pair of shoes, shoes that are too big to be his but too small to be Harry’s, are something else entirely.

**5:57pm**

No. No way. There is no fucking way that he is right and that—just no. That isn’t Harry. Not the Harry who comes home with flowers for him, who picks his ties up from by the front door and doesn’t complain when he comes home on date night to find Louis trying to pass off ready made pizza as his own. No.

But Louis’ brain stops coming up with other reasons and starts to ask ‘what if’ and he can’t have that. He goes back to his wineglass and is about refill it when he hears the shower turn off and his heart sinks in his chest.

No.

**6:00pm**

He looks over from his spot in the kitchen as the bathroom door opens and Harry comes out, laughing and smiling as he looks back at the person who’s tie is draped over their sofa, and then he looks at Louis and his face falls.

Shit.


End file.
